My dad always kept his 10/22 locked up and never let us even see it. It was my friend and his dad (who owned a gun shop) that started me off. First was a Lakewood bolt .22. Next as a cruel joke Ronnie (my friend) broke out a 300wby. His dad heard that thing go off and saw me laying in the yard and gave Ron a smack upside the head. Then he went and grabbed an on "Johnson Automatics" .257Roberts (built on a 98 action) and a box of rounds. Needless to say I was more than a bit nervous, but I lined up that peep sight and let one off. I fell for that gun right then. They taught me the basics and every time I came over that 257 was there and ammo was always ready.
I moved on and picked up a .243 off of them. A weird 98 with a de-cocking knob on the back. I shot the barrel out of it and stupidly sold it. I went through many rifles but always wanted that .257. The military got me hooked on AR's, and varminting got me into precision bolt guns, but I couldn't walk by a Mauser without looking at it (and sometimes buying it too)
I cam to love five rounds: the 22lr, 45ACP, .223Rem, 7x57, and the 257Roberts. But I never owned on of the last. I dreamed of putting one together, but never did.
It took 20 years before Leroy (Ron's dad) sold off the last of his collection and I went to the auction with just one goal- Bring home the .257. I got into a bidding war with about everyone there and paid way more than what it was worth, but it cam home with me (and put me in the doghouse with the wife). He told me if he knew I still wanted it he would have just sold it to me for about half what I ended up giving, but it was worth it.